The dead heart feels no pain.
Bodies in the grave feel no rain.

Don't cry.
Don't be angry.
As long as I live
I must try.

Along dusty trails,
scattered bones
litter the landscape
of the past.

Walking among the dead
dust choking.

Holy shit that was scary!
I'm so happy
I was just joking!

Oh wait, what was that?
Eyes in the dark,
Claws ripping at bark.
Snuffling as it nears.

Then choking on dust.
As long as I live
Try I must.

Shrinking away
from ghosts as a child.
Getting smaller
is not growth but aging.

And dead hearts feel no fear.
Bodies in the grave,
listen, but cannot hear.

Lifted my face to the sky
drink the moon sun and stars.
Amazing.

As long as I live,
the pristine future
cut with hideous scars.

Today produced a butterfly.
Flutter and preen.
Sunshine and rain,
grass inviting and green.

Oh now, where were we?
I ran out of breath.
Hard to breathe with
empty ribs. Oh yeah.

Dusty graves.
Bones and death.

Fangs ripping at flesh
quivering dead yet alive.
Snarling frenzy,
intestines on the floor.

I was supposed to work.
Be home at five.
Dust gathers
on the trail of my past.

Worming, squishy moist and hot.
Chattering spider, webs and eggs.
Cold slugs pulsing.
Drowning eyes opened.

I woke up for this?
I'm going back to sleep.
Tomorrow I want more.

And dead hearts have no beat.
Bodies in the grave are hungry,
but cannot eat.

The storm whispers my name.
I stand in the open.
Blade held high, breathless scream.

Do it!
I dare and I howl.
I want to die battling the sky,
make it hard and fast.

(Inspired by listening to "Ashlee Simpson, La La song"
about 140 times in a row. *Number Nine*)